So, DH and I went to Mammoth, CA for our first experience playing in snow. We flew to LA on an afternoon flight, and slept at my brother's for the night. The next day, we packed up 4 adults, 2 kids, and a large dog into two cars and drove up to Mammoth. About 4 hours later with a stop at a rather odd road-side restaurant (a taxidermist did the decorating and they only served burgers. scary), we arrived at the "cabin." That's in quotes because it's really just a normal house, I don't know why everyone kept calling it a cabin.
The first order of the day was to go up to the ski resort and get everything prepped for tomorrow. DH and I were fitted for boots and boards. I don't know if you've ever rented ski gear before, but it's not very high on my list of things to repeat. It's not very pleasant to try on a pair of boots that probably had just come off a rough day on the slopes and hadn't even dried yet. I was pretty grossed out, but there was nothing for it.
With gear in hand, we went on the hunt for lockers, apparently they are a precious resource out here, so once you get one, you don't relinquish it until you are going home, and I don't mean back to the "cabin." Stowing the none-too-pleasant-smelling gear in a musty locker (lovely, just lovely), we went back for dinner and a good night's sleep in preparation for the lessons that DH and I were signed up for the next morning.
Woke up early and got dressed. I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror and nearly laughed out loud. I looked like a boy! Baggy ski pants and my jacket was too big. With a hat hiding my hair, big boots and thick ski gloves, I looked exactly like an awkward teenage boy. I guess snowboarders aren't known for being fashionably clad.
While my brother and family hit the ski slopes, DH and I manuevered our boards over to the lessons area. I figured it wasn't a good sign when the first 20 minutes were teaching us how to fall (Omen number one). Turns out that there really was a reason for that. I'll get into that later. After making us practice falling, we strapped on our boards and went up and down a tiny little hill (not kidding, 30 feet long, maybe 4 feet in elevation). After learning how to turn and stop, and working on that falling, seriously, it was happening to everyone, they took us to the lift.
That first lift ride was one of the coolest things I've ever experienced. The scenery is just stunning and to be lifted up like you're flying over it is an amazing thing. The fact that there's nothing holding you in and if you lean too far forward you're toast might have had something to do with the exhiliration, but I still remember the rush. We went higher and higher. Looking back down the mountain it was cool to see the world drop away, and looking up I was amazed at how far further some of the other peaks go. I was looking at one peak that was insanely tall and steep when to my horror I realized people were actually skiing down it! I think they were committing suicide, how could anyone survive that!
One other thing about the lift. You can see all the people skiing and snowboarding by beneath you. It's pretty cool to watch people, you see the ones who really know what they're doing, and you also see some spectacular falls. What I fortunately didn't notice until later was that about 95 percent of the people we saw fall down, had snowboards attached to their feet. Omen number two.
To my dismay, the ride came to the end, followed by the single most difficult thing for me to accomplish...the dismount. I just can't get off those things gracefully. I ate it almost every time and had to crawl away as fast as I could with that damn board stuck to my leg. The dread of the inevitable getting off tainted every lift ride thereafter. Too embarrassing.
So, we're at the top of the bunny slope where I'm like, "Is this REALLY the easiest thing you have?" The lane is narrow with trees on each side and in some places, if you don't turn in time, you go off a cliff into a 10 foot deep ravine. That's the bunny slope. Great. Ok, so after they have us all sit on our butts in the snow getting soggy bums, we get started. There was not a one among the group that went more than 4 feet before falling back down. Snowboarding is HARD!
So after falling our way down the slopes, we reach the bottom and go back up for another round. Every member of the group looks like they've been beaten. We're all limping a little, rubbing parts of our bodies, straightening clothes that have gone awry. We're not a pretty sight. But, here we go again.
The second run was better in some ways, but worse in others. We're all able to manage going for a while before falling, and stopping and changing directions by shifting weight, but now they want us to learn the 'S' turn. Hoo Boy, a whole new world of pain there. You see, when you change directions by coming to a stop, and shifting your weight, you never really go very fast. When you start doing real turns, you can really start booking it if you're not very careful. While that's fun later, in the beginning all you know is that the faster you go, the nastier the falls are. DH and I took some whoppers. The worst ones are when you are facing up hill, start to turn, lose it, and fall backwards downhill. I think everyone learning this should wear a helmet and a neckbrace.
To add insult to injury, there are all these little kids, maybe 5-7 years old just zooming by. They're all on skiis, but still, it's a little annoying to be sitting in the snow trying to convince yourself to get up again and to have these kids effortlessly go by. What really got me was at one point, I was on my rear, catching my breath after yet another tumble, when this little girl, weighing maybe 30 pounds, pulls up and goes "are you ok?" I wanted to smack her! I know it's not nice, and I'm sure she had good intentions, but ooooh, I was NOT happy.
By the third run, we had mostly gotten the hang of it. We would fall occassionally, but there were enough seconds (note, not minutes) in between falls that you could tell this can be fun. At one point, the instructor had us all sit together, then moved downslope and had us one by one do 'S' curves down to him and stop. I got up first and did it perfectly, no problem. I was so impressed with myself until I got up to the instructor, stopped, and promptly fell on my a**. So much for my ego.
After that, the lesson was over and we were on our own. After another run, we decided we had enough bruises and called it quits for the day. We stored our gear in our lockers and went home. After peeling off my ski clothes, I was grateful we were in cold weather, because I wasn't showing any skin for a while. Someone would think that DH and I beat each other! Also, if DH wouldn't have pretended to not know me, I might have worn a pillow strapped to my rear the next day. Whooee, it hurt to sit. But, it was all worth it.
The next morning, the alarm went off, and I opened one eye. I was afraid to move. Slowly, I wiggled fingers and toes, then shifted arms and legs. Testing the pain that was going to be involved with getting up. Oh My! Everything hurt! DH was the same way. We moved like geriatrics with bad arthritis. After lots of grunts and groans we got into our ski gear and headed back to the slopes.
I'm happy to report that day two was infinitely better. The first run down the slopes had us worried, it was pretty bad, but after that, our bodies picked it up again and it went well. By the end of the day, we were doing an occasional entire run without falling and we were testing how fast we were willing to go before chickening out. That's really a rush BTW, going fast is fun, but you know you're still unsteady enough that if you hit too big a bump, you're going to eat it.
Things transpired that kept us away from the slopes the next day, but I can't wait to do it again. I hope that we don't forget how and have to start all over again. I also hope that I will have magically figured out how to get off the lift gracefully.
Friday, April 1, 2005
Russia: March 2005
I was in Russia! I can hardly believe it myself. A friend of mine was going to adopt two sisters from Russia and asked me to go along. With about two weeks from when I was asked to when we went, I said yes! In what seemed like no time at all, I was freezing in Russia.
We landed in Moscow, the picture is the view from our hotel window right before we went to sleep for the next 15 hours. (more about Moscow later). We were in Moscow for two days and then we took a four hour flight into Siberia, landing in Novokuznetsk (south-central Russia). From here, it was a 15 minute drive to the orphanage where we met the girls. My friend, A, had already been there once and met them before, but they had never met their future father. They’re adorable girls, 7 and 11 years old.
The orphanage was actually rather nice, granted everything is relative. The plumbing was primitive and they kids wear the same clothes for a week, but I understand that’s not uncommon around those parts. Generally I got the impression that the orphanage staff try very hard to make it a nice place for the children.
The town itself was rather grim. It’s a coal mining town and everything is coated in black soot. The snow, the buildings, cars...everything. It’s just a depressing place. Very poor. You can hardly imagine that people can survive the winter in the shacks that qualified as homes.
After we left the orphanage (sans girls, we can’t take them until after the court date), we drove three hours to the town of Kemerovo. Kemerovo is sort of the capital of the region, and fortunately, it’s a big step up from Novokuznetsk. It’s a modern town, big governmental buildings, hotels, restaurants, etc. Our hotel looked good in the lobby, but my room, well, let’s just call it an adventure and leave it at that. Functional, but not something you really care to remember.
Here was my first real experience with Russian food, and to my surprise, it’s really good! Not to mention cheap. For about five bucks I ate in a nice restaurant and had food that would have cost me 15 to 20 bucks back home! I’m amazed that no matter where we ate, there was an attention to detail that was very impressive. They take great care in the presentation and everything tasted as good as it looked.
In Kemerovo, we spent the next few days dealing with legal stuff. We had the court hearing where my friends were declared the legal parents of the two girls. I wasn’t allowed in the court room, but I’m told there’s a jail cell in the corner of the room. So much for prejudicing the jury.
One interesting thing about the Russian adoption system is the secrecy involved. You get the impression that people are hiding things from you. You ask questions about the kids you’re about to adopt, like health or their past, and if the people in charge think you won’t like the answer, they’ll evade. This gets confirmed when eventually they’ll drop a little morsel of the negative information here and there when they think the time is right. You just have to wait and get in their due time. To top it off, sometimes they’ll drop bombs on you right in the court room, moments before everything’s official. Fortunately, nothing too major this time, but it’s happened to my friend before on her last adoption. Oh yeah, she already has two other girls from previous Russian adoptions, one is now 17 and the other is 13.
After the court hearing, you spend a bunch of time running around town getting documents signed and notarized. The Russians are alllll about documentation. Things got a little humorous around now. You see, A’s church donated about one thousand dollars for her to buy things for the orphanage. She couldn’t just give the orphanage the money, because corruption is rampant, so we had to spend over one thousand dollars in a place where most things are ridiculously cheap.
We bought shoes, clothes, books, toys, and hygiene and medical supplies. Everything in massive quantities as there are over one hundred children in this orphanage. At the end of the day, we had to haul it all up to our rooms. People in the hotel lobby stared at us open-mouth as five adults hauled tons of childrens stuff through. They probably thought that this was rampant American excess, “adopt one child and look at all they bought for it.”
The next day, with all the main legalese finished, A’s husband flew home to take care of the other girls and A and I headed back to the orphanage, along with our huge haul of purchases. Christmas came early this year. A number of children came out to help us bring everything in and their faces reflected total amazement with each armload taken out of the van.
In the orphanage, we were escorted to a room where the girls were to meet us.
One thing to note, is that the children are not allowed to take their clothes with them (needed for the next child), so you have to bring clothes with you. Apparently, these two knew the drill and were eager to get going because they ran in the room and started stripping down reaching for the new clothes. In just a few minutes, they were ready to go. They left clutching only the teddy bears that A had given them during her previous visit. They actually owned NOTHING else.
Back to Kemerovo, a three hour car ride with two little girls on a big adventure. It actually went surprisingly well. In Kemerovo, the adoption facilitator announced that A had to go get the girl’s passports, so I took the girls into the hotel. I’ll never forget this. As I walk into the hotel lobby with two very cute little girls trailing behind me, all these Russians, both men and women, went “awwww.” They act tough, but a lot of it is an act. This hotel is used for a lot of adoptions, so I guess they knew what was going on.
The next day, we head for the airport. We hand over our tickets, and the lady, who of course speaks no English and looks as mean as a bull dog, points at the date on my ticket. To my horror, it said I was supposed to leave the day before, apparently with A’s husband. The travel company that booked us all had made a huge mistake. I almost panicked with visions of being left behind in Siberia with no means of communication.
Thank heavens I was with a group, or I might have been stuck. The lady looked at our panicked faces and motioned for us to wait. She continued processing the other passengers for what seemed like eternity (reality: 10 minutes) while we stood there each with a little girl holding our hand. Finally we were motioned to put our bags up for checking and she slid a new set of tickets over the counter for all of us! They put me on the flight! I was sooo happy and relieved. I had figured they wouldn’t make us stand there if they weren’t going to help us, so I had pulled out a can of macadamia nuts I had brought along. When she gave us the tickets, I said “thank you” in Russian, and gave her the can. This woman, who looked so intimidating, actually cracked a smile, although you could see she tried to stifle it.
The rest of the trip was spent in Moscow. It’s a wonderful city. Lots of beautiful buildings and loaded with history. Near all these amazing things, to my shock, I encountered a McDonalds. Now I didn't eat there, but I was surprised at how busy they were.
I had one day to myself and I used the most of it. I went to Red Square and saw St. Basil’s Cathedral, Lenin’s tomb (supposedly you can see the body, but they weren’t letting people in that day), and the Kremlin. I got to go inside the Kremlin (the seat of the Russian government) and tour the places they let you see.
There’s a big museum inside of the Kremlin called the Armoury. It holds all the state treasure. It’s got diplomatic gifts from other countries, clothes that the Tzars wore, jewels, etc. All the Russian history sort of stuff. It was fascinating, but unfortunately, most of the plaques weren’t in English. No problem. There were a number of private English language tours going around (expensive), so if something interested me, I’d just wait a bit and someone would come by and talk about it. I stayed for two separate tours in front of the Faberge Eggs! They were just amazing.
After the Kremlin, I went to the Tretyakov art gallery. The best collection of Russian art in the world. My guide book sucked, it didn’t say what metro stop to use or what streets to follow after that, so I guessed. Oh wait, the metro... The subway stations here are amazing. You'd think you were in an art gallery. Can you believe there are chandaliers over where the trains go in and out? And there's no litter and no graffitti. The "Palaces of the People" indeed.
Ok, back to the Tretyakov... When I got off the metro, I wandered a bit, then asked a trio of babushkas how to get there (in Russian. Maybe one in 20 Russians speak English and that’s being generous). They pointed and rattled something off. I was going to just go on the point, but I guess they realized I was clueless and took pity on me. They motioned me to follow. We went down a path with them glancing over their shoulders every so often to check that I was still with them. I felt like a lamb following a shepherd. Eventually, one turned off and the other two, motioning me to follow, went the other way. Down another street, they stopped in front of a building and motioned to it. They had gone out of their way and took me right to the door of the place! They laughed as I thanked them, turned and went back on their way. I encountered alot of that in Russia, people going out of their way to help you.
The rest of the time in Moscow, we wandered all over the place. It was fascinating to watch these kids with so little life experience. They had never seen an escalator! An American two year old can negotiate these things, but these two had no idea had to negotiate the move from solid ground onto something moving. A and I had to each firmly grab a child and hold on tight as they got on/off or else they would fall down. They seemed to think it was great fun and giggled alot about it.
To these two, everything is amazing. They’re fascinated by subways, statues, buildings, and especially those little Russian dolls that are embedded inside each other. It’s a wonderful experience to see things that you might take for granted reflected in their eyes. It’s a big new world for them.
Whooo, it’s late, I’m tired. I better wrap this up. In all, I spent 11 days in Russia, and it was an amazing experience.
We landed in Moscow, the picture is the view from our hotel window right before we went to sleep for the next 15 hours. (more about Moscow later). We were in Moscow for two days and then we took a four hour flight into Siberia, landing in Novokuznetsk (south-central Russia). From here, it was a 15 minute drive to the orphanage where we met the girls. My friend, A, had already been there once and met them before, but they had never met their future father. They’re adorable girls, 7 and 11 years old.
The orphanage was actually rather nice, granted everything is relative. The plumbing was primitive and they kids wear the same clothes for a week, but I understand that’s not uncommon around those parts. Generally I got the impression that the orphanage staff try very hard to make it a nice place for the children.
The town itself was rather grim. It’s a coal mining town and everything is coated in black soot. The snow, the buildings, cars...everything. It’s just a depressing place. Very poor. You can hardly imagine that people can survive the winter in the shacks that qualified as homes.
After we left the orphanage (sans girls, we can’t take them until after the court date), we drove three hours to the town of Kemerovo. Kemerovo is sort of the capital of the region, and fortunately, it’s a big step up from Novokuznetsk. It’s a modern town, big governmental buildings, hotels, restaurants, etc. Our hotel looked good in the lobby, but my room, well, let’s just call it an adventure and leave it at that. Functional, but not something you really care to remember.
Here was my first real experience with Russian food, and to my surprise, it’s really good! Not to mention cheap. For about five bucks I ate in a nice restaurant and had food that would have cost me 15 to 20 bucks back home! I’m amazed that no matter where we ate, there was an attention to detail that was very impressive. They take great care in the presentation and everything tasted as good as it looked.
In Kemerovo, we spent the next few days dealing with legal stuff. We had the court hearing where my friends were declared the legal parents of the two girls. I wasn’t allowed in the court room, but I’m told there’s a jail cell in the corner of the room. So much for prejudicing the jury.
One interesting thing about the Russian adoption system is the secrecy involved. You get the impression that people are hiding things from you. You ask questions about the kids you’re about to adopt, like health or their past, and if the people in charge think you won’t like the answer, they’ll evade. This gets confirmed when eventually they’ll drop a little morsel of the negative information here and there when they think the time is right. You just have to wait and get in their due time. To top it off, sometimes they’ll drop bombs on you right in the court room, moments before everything’s official. Fortunately, nothing too major this time, but it’s happened to my friend before on her last adoption. Oh yeah, she already has two other girls from previous Russian adoptions, one is now 17 and the other is 13.
After the court hearing, you spend a bunch of time running around town getting documents signed and notarized. The Russians are alllll about documentation. Things got a little humorous around now. You see, A’s church donated about one thousand dollars for her to buy things for the orphanage. She couldn’t just give the orphanage the money, because corruption is rampant, so we had to spend over one thousand dollars in a place where most things are ridiculously cheap.
We bought shoes, clothes, books, toys, and hygiene and medical supplies. Everything in massive quantities as there are over one hundred children in this orphanage. At the end of the day, we had to haul it all up to our rooms. People in the hotel lobby stared at us open-mouth as five adults hauled tons of childrens stuff through. They probably thought that this was rampant American excess, “adopt one child and look at all they bought for it.”
The next day, with all the main legalese finished, A’s husband flew home to take care of the other girls and A and I headed back to the orphanage, along with our huge haul of purchases. Christmas came early this year. A number of children came out to help us bring everything in and their faces reflected total amazement with each armload taken out of the van.
In the orphanage, we were escorted to a room where the girls were to meet us.
One thing to note, is that the children are not allowed to take their clothes with them (needed for the next child), so you have to bring clothes with you. Apparently, these two knew the drill and were eager to get going because they ran in the room and started stripping down reaching for the new clothes. In just a few minutes, they were ready to go. They left clutching only the teddy bears that A had given them during her previous visit. They actually owned NOTHING else.
Back to Kemerovo, a three hour car ride with two little girls on a big adventure. It actually went surprisingly well. In Kemerovo, the adoption facilitator announced that A had to go get the girl’s passports, so I took the girls into the hotel. I’ll never forget this. As I walk into the hotel lobby with two very cute little girls trailing behind me, all these Russians, both men and women, went “awwww.” They act tough, but a lot of it is an act. This hotel is used for a lot of adoptions, so I guess they knew what was going on.
The next day, we head for the airport. We hand over our tickets, and the lady, who of course speaks no English and looks as mean as a bull dog, points at the date on my ticket. To my horror, it said I was supposed to leave the day before, apparently with A’s husband. The travel company that booked us all had made a huge mistake. I almost panicked with visions of being left behind in Siberia with no means of communication.
Thank heavens I was with a group, or I might have been stuck. The lady looked at our panicked faces and motioned for us to wait. She continued processing the other passengers for what seemed like eternity (reality: 10 minutes) while we stood there each with a little girl holding our hand. Finally we were motioned to put our bags up for checking and she slid a new set of tickets over the counter for all of us! They put me on the flight! I was sooo happy and relieved. I had figured they wouldn’t make us stand there if they weren’t going to help us, so I had pulled out a can of macadamia nuts I had brought along. When she gave us the tickets, I said “thank you” in Russian, and gave her the can. This woman, who looked so intimidating, actually cracked a smile, although you could see she tried to stifle it.
The rest of the trip was spent in Moscow. It’s a wonderful city. Lots of beautiful buildings and loaded with history. Near all these amazing things, to my shock, I encountered a McDonalds. Now I didn't eat there, but I was surprised at how busy they were.
I had one day to myself and I used the most of it. I went to Red Square and saw St. Basil’s Cathedral, Lenin’s tomb (supposedly you can see the body, but they weren’t letting people in that day), and the Kremlin. I got to go inside the Kremlin (the seat of the Russian government) and tour the places they let you see. There’s a big museum inside of the Kremlin called the Armoury. It holds all the state treasure. It’s got diplomatic gifts from other countries, clothes that the Tzars wore, jewels, etc. All the Russian history sort of stuff. It was fascinating, but unfortunately, most of the plaques weren’t in English. No problem. There were a number of private English language tours going around (expensive), so if something interested me, I’d just wait a bit and someone would come by and talk about it. I stayed for two separate tours in front of the Faberge Eggs! They were just amazing.
After the Kremlin, I went to the Tretyakov art gallery. The best collection of Russian art in the world. My guide book sucked, it didn’t say what metro stop to use or what streets to follow after that, so I guessed. Oh wait, the metro... The subway stations here are amazing. You'd think you were in an art gallery. Can you believe there are chandaliers over where the trains go in and out? And there's no litter and no graffitti. The "Palaces of the People" indeed.Ok, back to the Tretyakov... When I got off the metro, I wandered a bit, then asked a trio of babushkas how to get there (in Russian. Maybe one in 20 Russians speak English and that’s being generous). They pointed and rattled something off. I was going to just go on the point, but I guess they realized I was clueless and took pity on me. They motioned me to follow. We went down a path with them glancing over their shoulders every so often to check that I was still with them. I felt like a lamb following a shepherd. Eventually, one turned off and the other two, motioning me to follow, went the other way. Down another street, they stopped in front of a building and motioned to it. They had gone out of their way and took me right to the door of the place! They laughed as I thanked them, turned and went back on their way. I encountered alot of that in Russia, people going out of their way to help you.
The rest of the time in Moscow, we wandered all over the place. It was fascinating to watch these kids with so little life experience. They had never seen an escalator! An American two year old can negotiate these things, but these two had no idea had to negotiate the move from solid ground onto something moving. A and I had to each firmly grab a child and hold on tight as they got on/off or else they would fall down. They seemed to think it was great fun and giggled alot about it.
To these two, everything is amazing. They’re fascinated by subways, statues, buildings, and especially those little Russian dolls that are embedded inside each other. It’s a wonderful experience to see things that you might take for granted reflected in their eyes. It’s a big new world for them.
Whooo, it’s late, I’m tired. I better wrap this up. In all, I spent 11 days in Russia, and it was an amazing experience.
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